Snowstorms
by Tawa bids you good day
Summary: Hermione takes Harry, Ron and Sirius on a skiing trip. Ron makes a fool of himself, and Sirius tells stories about Lily and James.
1. You're a winner!

Author's Notes: Okay, I happen to be a very keen skier (and not too shabby either, if I do say so myself). I got this idea when I was skiing last weekend, and I am writing this for myself as much as for all you wonderful readers out there.  
  
A lot of the setting will be written from my own experiences: (heh.) the skifield will probably be loosely based on one of the ones I go to every year. The reason the time setting is the end of the third term of Harry's fifth year is because this story was originally planned for a Christmas time setting, but then I realised that over here (Southern Hemisphere) it would be the middle of summer! I have to write about a New Zealand skifield because I've never skied anywhere else and I don't want to start writing and then have someone come and tell me its not like that at all in Europe, if you see what I mean. (I've heard that skiing is pretty different in the rest of the world.you have TREES in the SNOW? How can you stand it!?)  
  
This story will include magic (as much as I can manage to squeeze in there) flashbacks to Lily/James/pre-Harry's-birth era, and hopefully lots of Sirius (the time is before the end of book five..grrr..). And I will make all attempts to crush Mary-Sues before they can begin (Hi, I'm Marie, Harry's sexy teenage ski-intructor!) so sorry for Mary-Sue fans.  
  
Well, let's get onto it then!  
  
---[]---  
  
End of Term holidays saw Harry, Hermione and Ron taking a much needed break from school (and High Inquisitors), and settling down for a peaceful two weeks at Grimmauld Place. At least, it would have been peaceful if Mrs Weasley hadn't decided to let Ginny and the Twins stay over as well.  
  
"It's just so I know you're all safe, dear," she replied to Ron's loud complaints that Fred and George had put their new Pimple Power Powder on his pillow, and in his underpants. They also stuck invisibility thumb-tacks on all Hermione's school books, ("Well, she studies too hard. We're doing her a favour, really", Fred explained while Hermione searched in vain for her homework), and to top if off Ginny had let Buckbeak into Harry's school bags, which had left them in such a state of disarray even a house-elf may have cringed. She claimed it had been an accident, but he saw her giving George a high-five right afterwards.  
  
Certainly Mrs Weasley was right, there seemed no safer place then the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, with Order members zipping in and out all day long. At least, that was until the Daily Prophet arrived on Saturday morning.  
  
"ESCAPED PRISONERS SPOTTED IN LONDON" the headline read. Ron's teacup shattered on the floor, and Mrs Weasley choked on her pancakes.  
  
So much for 'just so I know you're all safe'. "But you've got to go back to Hogwarts!" Mrs Weasley cried tearfully to a protesting Harry, "it's not safe here!"  
  
Sirius' face could be seen to fall further by the minute. There was really no other choice except for Harry to return to school; even McGonagall, popping in for a muffin, agreed it was best.  
  
"Just two days," begged Harry, who had been looking forward to spending some time out of Umbridge's reach and in the company of his godfather. "Alright, you may stay two days, then," sighed Molly.  
  
---[]---  
  
On Sunday morning, a huge brown owl almost taller then Harry's knees landed in Ginny's toast.  
  
"It's for you," Ginny said, handing the thick, brown paper envelope to Hermione. Hermione took it with a slightly puzzled look and ripped the top off. She pulled out a brightly coloured sheet of paper which screeched "YOU'RE A WINNER!" in a tinny voice.  
  
"Dear Miss Granger," Hermione read aloud, "we are pleased to announce that you are the champion in our monthly travel competition." she scanned through the letter and gasped, "I've won a trip for four to go on a week- long overseas skiing trip!"  
  
Ron sniggered, "oh goodie."  
  
"No, it's really great," said Hermione, glaring at him.  
  
"I thought you didn't like skiing," said Ron.  
  
"Who told you that?" snapped Hermione.  
  
Harry raised his hand, "sorry," he said sheepishly.  
  
"Well, really Ron, it's not all bad," Hermione sniffed, ignoring Ron's sniggering, "I only quit at Christmas because Mum and Dad took me to this appalling ski-field with nothing but nutcrackers-"  
  
"Nothing but what?" Ginny gasped.  
  
"Never mind, the point is, skiing is lots of fun, really Ron," Hermione continued, glaring daggers at the youngest Weasley son, "I bet if you tried it you'd be hooked. Hey!" her face lit up, "that's a great idea! You could come skiing, Ron!"  
  
"Fat chance!" said Ron.  
  
"I have to agree," said Mrs Wealsey, bustling into the room with more toast, "it sounds awfully dangerous, Hermione. I realise Muggles do some pretty odd things sometimes but I don't think it's quite appropriate."  
  
"But the trip is in two days time!" said Hermione frantically, "I can't waste it, it must cost a ton! All gear supplied - overseas ski-field - lessons included - I can't miss something like this! The ski-season is just starting over there," she read the rest of the information in the envelope excitedly, "they reckon there'll be tons of new snow. And it's a Wizarding Travel Agency that's organising the competition, Mrs Weasley, so we'll be in capable hands."  
  
"Why don't you and your parents go?" asked Harry.  
  
"Mum and Dad are visiting my aunt and uncle and their new baby," said Hermione miserably, "they won't be back until next week. Oh, come on Ron, I bet Harry wants to come too, don't you?" she looked appealingly at Harry.  
  
"Er-" said Harry.  
  
"It'll be wonderful! I can teach you guys to ski, and," she added, staring meaningly at Mrs Weasley, "Harry would be away from you-know-who AND the Ministry. He'd be ever so safe, and he wouldn't have to go back to school!"  
  
"But the trip is for four," said Mrs Weasley pointedly, "if you're really sure about this, I'd feel better if an adult came along too, but I don't think we can spare anyone right now."  
  
"Oh yes we can!" said the voice of Sirius, hurrying into the room, "did I hear something about skiing?"  
  
"Yeah, Sirius can come!" said Harry happily.  
  
Hermione frowned, "can you ski?" she asked Sirius suspiciously.  
  
"Me? I've been skiing tons before! Years ago! No, I'm not actually any good at it," he admitted, "but it does sound like fun, Hermione. Could I come, if Molly concedes?"  
  
"I guess so," said Hermione, grinning.  
  
Ginny's face brightened, "does that mean I can.I mean, I have to stay in the house with only Fred and George for company?"  
  
"You can take my place-" Ron began but Ginny glared daggers at him and he shut up.  
  
"Please Mrs Weasley?" Hermione, Harry and Sirius begged.  
  
Mrs Weasley looked thunderous.  
  
But several hours later, she finally agreed.  
  
---[]---  
  
Yay! Skiing! Whoopee! Reviewreviewreview. Are you a skier? Snowboarder? Does the idea of Ron with his face in the snow crack you up? If so, tell me, and I'll continue! *Oh, and if you don't know what Nutcrackers are in relation to skiing: imagine a rope shooting up a mountain at hip level. Now imagine: you have a belt around your waist which is tied to a kind of metal pincer called a Nutcracker (because it looks a lot like a nutcracker). You have to flick the Nutcracker onto the speeding rope, hold it tight and hang on as you are dragged up the slope on your skis. Not the most convenient mode of transportation, I can tell you, especially because you often have to hold onto the rope with your hands before you can flip your nutcracker on. My new gloves were completely mangled on the palms after one day using Nutcracker pulleys! I don't think Nutcrackers are too common these days, but if you ever have to use them: you have my sympathy. 


	2. Dog Fears

Ack, I took forever to post this because of my ginormous english project which I left to the last minute..again..  
  
Author's Notes: Ok, I am making suppositions here. I am going to say that Hermione is a pretty good skier, or that she is at least experienced. I am going to pretend there are some wizards who like skiing (though it can't be much in comparison to broomsticks). Also, I forgot to do a disclaimer last time, so here it is: I do not own Harry Potter. I have no permission to use him in my stories. He belongs to JK Rowling, ect. I'm writing for fun and not to make a profit except to my own self-esteem. Thanks for not suing me.  
  
Ok, and just to make things clear: YES, I have read the fifth book. This story does NOT take place in the summer holidays - I have made up a random holiday at the "end of third- term" at Hogwarts (pretending that the year is split into four terms, like it is in NZ) - so this story takes place about three-quarters of the way through the school year. WE ARE NOT IN THE SUMMER HOLIDAYS HERE, WE ARE SOMEWHERE BETWEEN SUMMER AND CHRISTMAS. This particular school break holiday is never mentioned in the book - but hey, if they didn't say we CAN'T have it.? Ok, I'm glad we got that all cleared up.  
  
(yoda is checking you out).  
  
Ok, back to the story!  
  
---[]---  
  
They arrived at the Wizarding Travel Agency on early Tuesday morning, Mrs Weasley's cries of "CHECK YOU'VE GOT ALL YOU'RE WARM CLOTHING, RON!" still ringing in their ears. The red-head was still grumbling about how he had somehow been tricked into going on the trip, and seemed liable to explode at any minute. However, ten pairs of feet walked into the Travel Agency with a script already rehearsed in their heads.  
  
The room was seemed very sharp, lit by a bright glowing orb hanging from the ceiling. It was the sort of room in which everything has its proper place, and it made the four feel slightly uncomfortable under the bright light. An especially sharp and organised woman was sitting behind the desk, sorting papers with flicks of her wand. She looked up as a bell over the door tinkled and stared at them.  
  
Hermione smiled and brandished the competition slips like a sword.  
  
"You're the winner of the Skiing Trip?" the woman asked uncertainly, still staring at Harry with his hand on the head of a large black dog.  
  
"Yes, that's me," Hermione smiled confidently. The large black dog sat down and poked his tongue out in a friendly way, his tail wagging cheerfully behind his rump.  
  
The woman took the papers and inspected them suspiciously, still glancing nervously at the animal. After a few moments of silence her gaze swept the three males and she gulped, "are these - your three companions?"  
  
"Indeed," said Hermione, still smiling sweetly, "the letter said to be here at eight o'clock today, so does that mean we'll be leaving soon? All our luggage is out the front."  
  
The woman ruffled through the papers as if trying to distract them while she thought. Finally she stood up, looking slightly less professional then she had a few minutes ago, and bowed quickly, "excuse me, I just need to have a word with the organiser of the competition," and with that she scurried out as if a horde of dementors were on her tail.  
  
They waited patiently. Ron took a look at the travel opportunities displayed on posters around the walls (See the Magical Zoos of Berne: Visit Switzerland now!.cool off at Fiji's Replenishing Mage-Springs!.Don't delay - find out the truth of Easter Island Today!). Sirius, in dog form of course, sniffed at a skinny pink parrot perched by the window, which Harry had taken to be stuffed. But it squawked warningly at the beast, and puffed itself up like a balloon.  
  
"Hello! Hello! Wonderful to meet you!" came a rich, melodious voice, and Harry tore his eyes away from the bird to watch a very tall, pointy man with a navy-blue cloak shaking hands warmly with Hermione as if he had known her for years, "come, come and sit down. My name is Malory Algernon," he hurried around the counter and dropped into one of the plastic chairs around a small silver coffee table in the corner of the room. Harry and Ron glanced at Hermione but followed her lead and the three of them sat down as well. A pot of tea appeared along with four mugs and a plate of biscuits.  
  
"Well, very independent of you to all come on your own!" Algernon smiled, pouring a greenish tea into each of the cups, "have you been skiing before?" he asked Hermione.  
  
"Yes, but I don't pretend to be an expert," she smiled, taking a mug from him. Harry sipped a little of the tea and tried not to screw up his face in disgust: it was extremely bitter.  
  
"Well, who does?" Algernon laughed agreeably, "I'm sorry about Clarence," he motioned towards the door where the woman had disappeared, "got a bit of a phobia of dogs - hides it very well, I think," he smiled, "is this your pooch?" he ruffled the top of Sirius' head, who was apparently trying not to growl at being called 'pooch.'  
  
"He's mine," said Harry quickly.  
  
Algernon's smiled gave a little wiggle at the corner, "yes? You would be.er.Harry Potter?"  
  
"The one and only," Harry tried to smile and put his hand forward for Algernon to shake, but the man did so only half-heartedly.  
  
"I've seen you in all the newspapers," he said, and Harry resisted the urge to reply sarcastically, 'really? I'd never have guessed'. Algernon turned back to Hermione, "well, now, I'm afraid we've hit a little hitch," his smile righted itself, "about.er.what is his name?" he patted Sirius again. "Uh," said Hermione, and Harry glanced worriedly at her. They hadn't even thought about that, and it would be very suspicious is Harry's dog was named after a fugitive mass-murderer.  
  
"Snuffles," grunted Ron. Hermione and harry relaxed; at least that would be an easy name to remember; they had used it before on many occasions.  
  
"Yes, well Snuffles is the problem," said Algernon, waving a biscuit in front of Sirius' nose. Sirius stared at it disdainfully, "you see, Clarence was supposed to escort you to the skifield, but her condition will obviously make it near-impossible for her."  
  
"Oh," said Hermione, "but we can't go without Snuffles! He never leaves Harry's side, he'd surely.er.pine without him."  
  
"Are you sure?" Algernon said. His opinion of Harry had obviously not been improved with the news that he had a Grim-like dog as his constant companion, "we have contacts with several exceptional kennels who could all take good care." but all three of them were shaking their heads forcibly, and Sirius gave a convincing whine. Algernon sighed, "well, other arrangements will have to be made, then."  
  
"You won't cancel the trip?" said Hermione anxiously, and Ron looked hopeful.  
  
"No, no, of course not my dear," Algernon reassured her, "but there is the possibility we will have to use muggle transport." he frowned.  
  
Hermione shook her head, "Don't worry about that, I'm sure you'll put us in good hands, sir."  
  
"Of course, I promise to have to sorted," said Algernon.  
  
---[]---  
  
They would not have to travel all the way without magic; a long-distance fireplace near the Travel Agency saw them most of the way there. Harry found it took a noticeably longer time to travel half-way across the globe by Floo-powder, and by the end of the spinning trip he was feeling more then a little nauseous. Algernon had made good on his promise, and when they finally stumbled out of the fireplace at the other end, coughing and spluttering and with bags landing all around them, a middle-aged witch with a sharp nose and a tense slit for a mouth met them. She hustled them along, fondly patting Sirius and muttering disapprovingly about "Malory and his publicity stunts."  
  
"I'm sorry I can't stay, I've got a bus-load tourists arriving in twenty minutes, and they really aren't used to non-magic vehicles," she said apologetically, "I'm afraid you'll be in the hands of muggles from now on," she gave them precise instructions of their pick-up and the rest of their trip, tucked a folded pamphlet of those same instructions into Ron's pocket, and left them sitting in a glass bus-stop.  
  
The large black dog vanished and Sirius sat down on the end of the seat, next to Harry, already dressed in black ski-pants and a black polar-fleece jacket with runes in silver and gold thread on the sleeves.  
  
"Sirius! Are you sure its safe.?" Hermione frowned, "the muggles over here might have been warned about you too, you know."  
  
He grinned, "mostly sure. Arthur checked it out already, and they only had a couple of news bulletins about me, especially with the Ministry trying to keep it under wraps now. No one's going to remember a photo from two years ago, besides the fact that I've had a wash since then," he winked.  
  
"Great, you can carry your luggage again," Ron chucked one of the bags to Sirius, "I've been having to lug it around all day since we left."  
  
"I wish the shuttle would hurry up," Hermione checked her watch, "I might get my jacket out," she pulled her own bag open at her feet. Harry had to agree with her; it seemed bitterly cold over here compared to the summer they had just come from. A few spots of rain dotted the glass of the bus- stop, "but that does mean snow's on the way," Hermione added brightly, watching the drizzling clouds.  
  
"Have you really been skiing before?" Harry asked Sirius while he looked for his own ski-jacket.  
  
"It was a good while ago," said his godfather thoughtfully, "I'm probably so out of practise I can't even stand up on a slope. I was never a patch on Lily, of course," he added.  
  
Harry glanced at him, "my mum? My mum used to ski?"  
  
"Look, there's the bus!" said Ron. Hermione frowned at him, knowing Harry wanted to hear more.  
  
The shuttle bus, which had Mt Hutt Ski Shuttle emblazoned along the side, slid to a halt in front of them and the driver got out, "you're the last minute tourist bunch?" he grinned, his foreign accent obvious.  
  
"Yep," Hermione nodded, "sorry about the emergency arrangements; our original transport was cancelled."  
  
"No problem, you're lucky we had space," said the man brightly, who was in his late twenties, and wearing a Mt Hutt Shuttle T-shirt over a bright- green poly-prop. Hermione handed over their fee (the witch who had met them at the fireplace had changed all their galleons into native muggle-money) and the driver, after giving her the change from a bum-bag around his waist, picked up half the bags and took them to the closed trailer the shuttle was towing. Sirius followed him with the rest of the bags and Harry, Ron and Hermione slid open the door of the shuttle and hopped inside.  
  
The shuttle was not large; there was only three seats at the back facing frontwards, three seats at the front facing backwards, and four in the middle, back-to-back with each other. Four of the five back seats were taken by four school-kids not much younger then Harry and his friends. There was a short girl with long, dark-brown, curly pigtails and a pair of pink mittens hanging from her jacket, and a dark-haired boy with large front teeth and sunglasses was lounging on the seat next to her. At the very back was a taller girl with short blonde hair and a blue ski-jacket, and next to her a tall boy with sandy hair. The girls were whispering loudly and busting into giggles at odd intervals while the dark-haired boy made snide comments. Pop-music bubbled out of a speaker below the window.  
  
Ron and Hermione sat down on two of the front seats, and Harry opposite them on the middle aisle. Sirius slid open the door and jumped in a few moments later and plopped down next to Harry. They pulled on their seat- belts as the shuttled pulled away.  
  
"It's going to be about two hours until we get to the mountain," the driver was saying.  
  
Harry wanted very much to ask Sirius more about his mum, but Sirius appeared to be half-way through a conversation with the driver.  
  
"So what part of England are you from?" the man continued.  
  
"London," Sirius said, "but Harry, Ron and Hermione are at boarding school in the country."  
  
"Really? Lucky you said London, that's the only place I know in England," the driver grinned, "on holiday are you, kids? Any of them your's?" he asked Sirius before they could answer.  
  
"Uh," said Sirius, pausing, "Harry's my.nephew."  
  
Luckily the driver didn't pick up anything odd, "so, having any good weather over there? Been pretty atrocious over here, but it means good snow, ay?" he chatted on to Sirius for a while, while Hermione and Ron began bickering over what they were going to do once they got there. The blonde-haired girl behind them tried briefly to start a conversation with Harry, but her friend said something about an accent which sounded like it included the word "sexy" and they both dissolved into laughter again. The sandy-haired boy frowned.  
  
It wasn't until they had picked up another skier, who sat up next to the driver, that Harry finally got to ask Sirius about Lily.  
  
"Yes, your mum was skier," said Sirius, smiling, "and not a too shabby one. She was muggle born, as you know, and I think her parents took her to the slopes from a young age. Muggles think skiing is very sophisticated, you see," he rolled his eyes, "but Lily just loved it," a sad look flitted briefly across his face, "if she hadn't gone to Hogwarts, she might have started racing some day. Although she never reckoned it would be anything professional, just another excuse to go fast."  
  
"Did my dad ski too?" asked Harry, fascinated.  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't call it skiing!" Sirius laughed, "it was mostly crashing. Into me, usually. Or vice versa. We were hopeless."  
  
"Really?" Harry couldn't help feeling a little disappointed; he had always carried a firm resolve that his father had been good at everything.  
  
"Well, some of the crashing was on purpose," said Sirius, "it was a constant feud to see who could get the most snow down the other person's jacket. We tried it on an icy slope once - nearly cracked our skulls open. You don't know how hard ice is until you're landing onto it at forty miles an hour. Lily could do better, though - when she stopped she could spray snow twenty feet without so much as a speck on herself. Get us both in one blast, and be off before we knew it. Oh, I don't remember ever using drying spells as much as when Lily was in a silly mood in the snow," he leaned back against the seat, chuckling.  
  
"Did they - did you - go skiing often?" Harry asked.  
  
"I only came a few times, when Lily was teaching James to ski," Sirius nodded, grinning, "oh, I've got a few tales to tell about that," he laughed.  
  
"But Ron, skiing is much easier!" Hermione's voice broke in shrilly.  
  
"I don't care, that.whatever it is..looks way cooler," grumbled Ron. He was flicking through a pamphlet from a rack by the seats.  
  
"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing at the pamphlet.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ron wants to go snowboarding."  
  
"Look! Look how cool it is, Harry! All those people look like real dorks," he pointed at a group of smiling skiers in one photo, "but this guy looks way awesome," he held up another photo up of a snowboarder leaping over a jump with snow spraying in all directions. Ron turned back to Hermione, "it flies, does it? The Snow-Bod?"  
  
"No, it doesn't fly!"  
  
"Oh," said Ron, disappointed, "well, I still reckon its better then skiing."  
  
Hermione ground her teeth together audibly, obviously wanting to tell Ron exactly what she thought of him.  
  
"I don't think I want to learn to snowboard, Ron," said Harry, "I'd rather not have my feet locked together like that. Be rather hard to walk, I imagine."  
  
"Harry, don't encourage her!" Ron said, shocked. Harry wanted to ask Sirius more about his parents, but when he turned back he found his Godfather had closed his eyes and apparently gone to sleep.  
  
"Are we allowed to play Exploding Snap in this thing?"  
  
"NO Ron!" Hermione said exasperatedly, "Honestly!"  
  
It was going to be a long week.  
  
---[]---  
  
Hey again! Sorry I didn't put much more Lily & James in there - I promise there will be some more of them in upcoming chapters.  
  
Thanks for all the lovely reviews from last chapter! Send me some more in now and I'll try to update as soon as possible!  
  
Baby Sirius: I'm so cute. How can you resist me? 


End file.
